Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Living together does make it slightly easier to save for a ring.
Only slightly.
While Harper doesn’t expect me to shell out for the mortgage payment or even the bills, I am determined to help maintain our home. Keep groceries in it – which is much more costly when you’re making real meals for two people. The expensive bathroom lightbulbs changed. Yard equipment that adds up rather quickly when you let your dad commandeer your trip to Harry’s Hardware store. Upkeep for an actual house is quite different than an apartment and in spite of my acceptance of this, my bank account doesn’t always like to comply.
Add that to the other reasons I’m not sure opening a pub is the right idea.
It introduces anarchy to an already not always stable financial situation.
What happens if it gets worse?
What happens if I can’t continue to do the little I do now for dates or repairs because the business I just “had” to start is bleeding me bloody dry?
I’ve just finished unlocking my phone with my thumb when Amber asks, “You texting them to tell them we’re on our way?”
“No,” the digit hits the message folder, “texting my girlfriend to tell her where I’m headed.”
“Why don’t you just tell her to her face?”
Amber’s suggestion shifts my stare to hers only to have hers cut off to the side.
Harper smiles wide, beam more beautiful than the light coming from the full moon above. The sight alone obliterates whatever irritation has been weighing me down all day yet knowing that that particular grin is for me – and only me – dissipates any other emotion that isn’t pure joy.
She sweetly waves with the hand not holding some sort of container, and I coyly return the gesture.
“Oh, that is so cute, it’s gross,” my boss teasingly states from my side. “You look like my eight-week-old doxin puppy.”
Her comment causes me to laugh loudly before stating, “I’ll see you at the bar in a bit.”
“Aw, that’s adorable that you think you’re still coming,” she sasses to me and swiftly waves to my girlfriend. “Have a good night, Harper!”
“Bye, Amber!” the love of my life warmly replies. Upon my arrival in front of her, her smile somehow grows even bigger, making me feel not only like I hung the moon, but caught it, dragged it to our galaxy, and pinned it right in the middle of the sky simply to please her. “Hey, babe.”
My hands are cupping Harper’s face to hold it where I want it without any real warning to either of us. Crashing my lips against hers is followed by my tongue diving inside, wanting every piece I can find, needing every piece I can take. Imperativeness propels me into guiding her over to the side of her SUV. Into pulling the door handle to the backseat. Into pushing her gently inside to have her the way I should get to have her every anniversary.
Coño…every fucking night.
Our mouths stay meshed in the clumsy process of closing the door and getting naked from the waist down; however, the second I thrust forward with her ankles over my shoulders, the connection is cut to allow a loud cry of my name to fall from her swollen lips. “Tate!”
“Ay, si, bella, grita mi nombre, así mismo,” I command in Spanish on a hard heave. “Don’t fucking stop screaming it until I stop fucking you.”
Harper whimpers over the command yet complies.
Her screams amplify each time I dive deeper. Brush her clit with a harsh hit. Nudge her g-spot with enough pressure to have her back bow but not enough to get her coming on my cock. Her dripping wet pussy screams to the same window shaking volume that her vocal cords do, drowning my dick on every dip, ceaselessly choking on it, constricting like it’s gagging for unfathomable reprieve. The tighter the muscles get the fiercer my thrusting becomes. Perennially pounding her into the leather seat occurs in between remorselessly banging her head against the door.
Sounds of my balls barbarically bathing in the slipperiness combine with the nut busting sensation of having her scorching juices become smeared all the way down to my thighs. Slowing down abruptly happens just for me to slide my dick out to sloppily spread our stickiness down the crack of her arse, around the puckering hole, and back inside, refusing to let the overworked territory have the break its desperate to have.
Like a sexually rabid beast, Harper winds both hands around my dangling tie and uses it to tug me into her.
Rougher.
Faster.
With more urgency as she pulls herself upward while simultaneously dragging me down.
The brief points I’m unexpectedly choked get my balls and shaft swelling alike. Refusing to come before my woman does is what increases the speed and severity of my strokes. Each drive inside wolfishly taps that hidden ecstasy button while each pull out brutally bumps her stiffened clit, providing just the right amount of contact to have her coming in less than sixty seconds.